


Something Borrowed

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Rivers of London - Ben Aaronovitch
Genre: Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, First Kiss, First Time, Multi, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 02:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13471347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: Beverley and Nightingale together are a force to be reckoned with.





	Something Borrowed

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like we're doing?” Nightingale asked, stalking towards me with a hungry look in his eyes I'd never seen before and which was sending my stomach into somersaults. Beverley meanwhile was moving behind me and pressing a kiss to the back of my neck.

“Yes, Peter, what does it look like we're doing?” Beverley asked.

“I – uh.”

Nightingale shut me up by kissing me then and I let out a low growl I'd never heard myself make before as he claimed my mouth, so sure of himself and me that it was a good thing Beverley was behind me and holding me up or I might just have melted into a puddle on the floor.

“I think he likes what we're doing, anyway,” Beverley said and I could hear the laughter in her voice just as I could feel Nightingale's smile against my mouth.

Nightingale pulled away from me and licked his lips, looking wrecked. I knew how he felt.

“Bed?” Beverley suggested, or more likely warned as suddenly she and Nightingale were moving me towards the bedroom and tipping me gently backwards onto the bed and Beverley was crawling over and kissing me and Nightingale was removing my trousers. It was all perfectly coordinated and if I didn't know better I'd say the two of them had had this planned for a while now.

Hang on, why did I think I knew better?

**Earlier that evening**

Nightingale and I were at Beverley's house for what had turned into a regular monthly dinner. Beverley wasn't a great cook but she was improving and liked to experiment and Nightingale was both unfailingly polite and used to eating whatever was put down in front of him. Sometimes Beverley would let me cook and even rarer she would allow Nightingale to take us all out for dinner, trying both new restaurants and old favourites.

It was late summer, the tail end of a heatwave, still warm enough for us to be sitting in the garden in t-shirts; Nightingale's concession to the weather and the company was to have taken off his jacket and be seated in just a shirt. Beverley had provided the food and I had provided the beers and we were celebrating my first solo investigation as a detective constable.

Somehow the conversation had turned around to other firsts and though the danger signs were obvious in hindsight, I missed all of them.

“And what about you, Nightingale?” Beverley asked. “Do you remember when you lost your virginity?”

“To a man or a woman?” Nightingale asked and I nearly choked on my beer.

Beverley hit me on the back and without missing a beat said, “both.”

“The first woman was when I was....25. Eliza Baker. She was living in a haunted house and the Folly assisted with releasing the trapped spirit. I wasn't really involved but she came to bring us some cakes as a thank you gift and well....” Nightingale drifted off into what was an apparently happy memory. I tried to exchange a bemused look with Beverley, or at least see if she too was trying to fight back a sudden wave of hysteria, but she seemed more interested in Nightingale than me.

“And the man?” she asked.

“Alexander Filkin. We were both 18 and celebrating having passed all of our exams. We ended up in the woods around Casterbrook and well, one thing rather lead to another. I still think about him whenever I smell wet leaves.”

This was too much and I suddenly stood up and muttered something about the toilet. I could hear them both calling my name as I went but I ignored them and locked myself in the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet seat and put my head between my knees.

I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that I'd been thinking about Nightingale as more than just my boss for a while now. Maybe because I've been so relaxed and happy and imagining how easy it would be for one thing to lead to another between me and Nightingale. Or maybe it was the way Beverley had been rubbing circles on my leg and how hard I was and how in that moment I wanted the both of them to want me the way I wanted the both of them.

There was a polite knock at the door and I abruptly stood up and splashed some water on my face. “Peter, are you all right?”

“I'm fine,” I called out.

“ _Peter_ ,” he said and just for a second I hated that he knew me so well.

I opened the door quickly and nearly barrelled into him. He caught my arm to stop me and I gasped at the contact. Beverley was standing behind Nightingale and she moved forward pressing her breasts up against Nightingale's back and running a hand along my erection and I bucked into her and well, the next thing I knew we were on the bed.

I would have screamed when Nightingale put his mouth on me if Beverley hadn't already been kissing my breath away.

“You planned this,” I said to them. I tried to make it sound like an accusation but instead it just sounded like a really fantastic idea that I wished I'd had myself.

Nightingale's laughter rippled up my body and then he was leaning over me as Beverley moved a little to one side.

“Do you mind?” he asked, surely only half-serious given the way he had his hand on my cock and I was bucking up, trying to make him move. For answer I began to lick and suck at Beverley's breast whilst staring into his eyes which I swear turned almost black.

Beverley groaned. “Let's really put your tongue to good use,” she said and pulled her trousers and knickers off before moving over my face and slowly lowering herself. I felt rather than heard Nightingale whisper something and realised, as Beverley got herself comfortable, that he'd created an almost invisible cushion for her to sit on to take the strain off her thighs.

“You never told me about that!” she said and Nightingale chuckled to himself before moving away. I found myself whimpering until Beverley told me he was only getting supplies from behind the wardrobe. “We didn't want you to find them and get curious.”

“How long have you been planning this?” I asked, still having a hard time believing that I wasn't having the most vivid wet dream of my life.

“For a while,” Beverley shrugged. “And before you ask, he didn't take anywhere near as much persuading as you're afraid of.”

“Indeed I didn't,” Nightingale replied, coming back over. I couldn't see him with the way Beverley was positioned but I felt his hands on my thighs, pushing them apart and then his fingers, cold with what I assumed was some form of lubricant – I took a moment to wonder if he'd bought it himself before deciding that I was hard enough as it was – were pushing slowly inside me.

“We'll answer all your questions later,” Beverley said and slowly lowered herself down a little more, her thighs trembling even with their magical support.

“Fuck,” I groaned and then began to lick my way up her thigh, she was already wet, and I sucked and licked inside her, feeling myself getting impossibly harder at every one of her moans and cries and the way she trembled and called out my name. We'd done this before, of course, there's something about the taste of a woman, about the taste of _Beverley_ that I can never get enough of but we'd never done it with her above me like this and even in my wildest fantasises I'd never dreamt that Nightingale would be there, removing his fingers and licking inside me the way I was doing to Beverley.

“He's close,” Beverley said and Nightingale murmured his assent and stopped touching me.

I sobbed with the frustration of it, my face and chin wet with Beverley, my tongue aching but still not planning on stopping until Beverley was the same turned on mess as I was.

“Shh,” Nightingale said, “I'm here.”

And then he was, pushing inside me, past the token resistance my body gave after all his careful preparation and he was fully sheathed inside me and I'd never felt so full or so complete with the both of them surrounding me. He pulled out so slowly I thought I would die from it and then pushed in again and Beverley's body swallowed my cries and gasps.

Beverley started to pant and then she started to desperately claw at the duvet with her feet and I looked up to see Nightingale's hands coming around her, first settling on her breasts so that she leaned back against him and then his fingers dipped low until I could lick at them and at Beverley and she was coming, screaming my name so loud I was glad the neighbours were away on holiday. She was breathing heavily and almost pliant against Nightingale.

“No, Peter, no more,” she said but I kept on licking and sucking at Nightingale's fingers as they dipped inside her. “Oh god I can't,” she said but she she never said our safe word and both Nightingale and I were seemingly determined that Beverley would come again. “Fuck, yes,” she started saying as Nightingale crooked his fingers, first two and then three and then four and I found I was licking at his wrist and all this time he never stopped moving, slowly, backwards and forwards, driving the both of us insane.

“You never told me about this, either,” Beverley said as Nightingale's movements sped up.

“I've lived a full life,” Nightingale said, the apparent understatement of the year, and I was gratified that he was sounding just as breathless and turned on as we were.

“ _Please_ ,” Beverley groaned. “ _Please_ ”. I took a moment to appreciate that I've only heard Beverley beg during sex a handful of times before Nightingale whispered something and Beverley's whole body spasmed as he removed his hand, and again put his hands on her breasts, holding her steadily against him as she came and came.

She was still lying against Nightingale like that as he started to speed up his thrusts, but they were without rhythm or focus now and I realised this is what it was like for Nightingale to really lose control; he'd been so focused on Beverley and me that he hadn't paid any attention to his own needs until I'd started to squeeze down on him and to wriggle and shift my body down onto his cock. I really wanted to make him come first but there was no way, I'd barely been keeping it together while Beverley's orgasm had shaken her to the core.

“Use me,” I panted, “just...take what you need”. And then I was coming, the world blacking out as Nightingale did exactly what I'd told him, fucking me through my orgasm, past the pain until it became a sharp kind of pleasure. I could feel his orgasm getting closer, could see the ways his hands were moving desperately to squeeze Beverley's breasts, probably too hard as Beverley eventually put her own hands over his and directed him to touch her the way she most liked to be touched. I'd once got Beverley so turned on just by using my tongue and hands on her breasts that she'd barely needed any penetration before her orgasm had taken hold, so I knew how sensitive they could be.

“Sorry,” Nightingale whispered against Beverley's neck.

“Just let yourself go,” Beverley whispered back and so he did, his orgasm coming like a wave straight into me, making my aching cock twitch with interest as he emptied himself into my exhausted body.

They fell in a heap next to me not soon after, Nightingale to my right, Beverley to my left, all our limbs entwined until I wasn't sure where one ended and the other began.

“You two have the best plans,” I said up into the ceiling, rewarded by both Beverley and Nightingale laughing into my side. “Any ideas how we're going to get cleaned up?”

Nightingale whispered something under his breath and a damp cloth landed on my chest. I tried to glare at him but he was looking so pleased with himself my only real option was to gently kiss him and then Beverley was cleaning us all up and we were settled into the bed together.

I fell asleep while pressing soft kisses against Beverley's lips and with Nightingale's arms around me, determined that this would only be the first of many nights like this.  



End file.
